


His Reputation Proceeds Him

by GaHoolianGirl



Series: Ferdinand and Hubert are dorks and in love [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: But it's info you as the reader should have, Comedy, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, M/M, More like "Hubert is an Idiot in Love", Most other tags I could put would be a spoiler for the fic itself lmao, POV Multiple, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, They don't interact a lot and many of the characters in the fic don't know that, Writing the pairing name almost gives the fic away but no one would read otherwise lmao, no spoilers tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 06:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21405760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaHoolianGirl/pseuds/GaHoolianGirl
Summary: The famous and infamous Hubert von Vestra seems incredibly concerned about the contents of a letter he sent to Ferdinand von Aegir, and is seen chasing it down by several citizens of the Empire, much to their terror, confusion, and amusement.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Series: Ferdinand and Hubert are dorks and in love [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1518935
Comments: 19
Kudos: 143
Collections: Sun & Moon 《Ferdibert》





	His Reputation Proceeds Him

**Author's Note:**

> Hey yall, I tried to be funny, I want you to see it for yourselves, enjoy!

For Barret Ecouland, it was an honor to stand guard by the offices of the venerable Hubert von Vestra, who was a hero in the war of unification, and to this day dedicated his life to the service of the Empire and her people. Even if he sent a shiver down the spine of the average person, and Barret wasn’t really that different. But he could work through his fear! He was an honorable guardsman of the Empire-

He jumped at the loud screeching of a chair scraping against stone, the thunder of feet stomping towards him, and the thump of a door being swung open and hitting the wall. Shaking nervously, he slowly turned his head to look at the scowling von Vestra, managing to sputter out, “S-Sir?”

No answer. He had almost made up his mind to repeat himself before the man grumbled, “Did you see which way the messenger I just sent was headed?”

“He said he...gathered all the messages he needed for today so he was...heading towards the stables...”

“My gratitude. Maintain your post. If someone comes looking for me, tell them I am out and to leave their name.”

“Yes sir!”

And with that, the living legend stormed off towards the stable, leaving his terrified guard standing in the hall with the setting sun’s light slowly ebbing away. A maid was making her way over, lighting the torches in preparation for the upcoming night. She raised an eyebrow at Barret, “What’s got ya’ all tense up, lad?”

“Sandrine... might request a different post after tonight.”

“I thought ya’ were so excited about this!?”

“I was,” he looked down the hallway he just watched Hubert run down, thinking of the chilling stare he received. It was like the mage was looking right _ through _ him, like he may as well never been there, “But I might not be cut out for it.”

* * *

Atheleys Boerth prided herself in the quality of operation she ran. No stable was managed with the same efficacy and smoothness of the Imperial Stable of Enbarr Castle. Under her watchful eye, every horse was thoroughly cleaned, well fed, and meticulously monitored and accounted for. There was no mount that left without her go ahead, she made sure of it. Normally, the various nobles and diplomats sent their vassals or valets to get their steeds for them, with a few exceptions.

Hubert von Vestra was not normally one such.

“Sir?” she crossed her arms at the panting man, who looked like he’d run several laps around the ground before coming here. For all she could tell, he might have, she’d knew little about him besides the constant rumors that swirled around about how he was somehow simultaneously a demon in human form and a perfect saint.

“Did you...did a messenger by the name of Ricket...ride out...from here recently?”

“Aye, just missed him, he said he was headed towards Barium. Had some letters for the Prime Minister. He said they were from you,” Atheleys looked him up and down, grinning at the panic on his face. It didn't fit the bill of what she knew of the man. She had heard he was impassive and imposing, yet here he was, turning an interesting shade of red at the idea of whatever letters he sent reaching their target destination.

“I see,” he coughed, trying to compose himself, “If you wouldn’t mind directing me to wherever Ulysses is housed? I am in need of his services.”

“That strapping young stallion is yours? A fine lad, sir, he’s got a lot of fight in him. Right this way.”

They got him on and settled, and he pat Ulysses thick neck, “Onwards. I’m sure you won’t mind seeing Penelope once we arrive.”

As she watched him ride out, Atheleys’ eyes widened with realization, a stablehand looking over at her in confusion, “Ma’m?”

“Say, ya’ know, the names of those two horses...”

* * *

The ride to Barium, a trading outpost of middling size at the mouth of the Morgaine Ravine, was a solid two hours from the castle on a well breed horse running a direct path, which meant that Hubert was able to arrive just after Ricket, having a much more powerful steed. 

Ferdinand von Aegir was here as a small stop on a longer journey back to Aegir territory to attend to some affairs before he more permanently settled himself in the capitol. Barium was rising in prominence due to the influx of trade coming into Enbarr after the conclusion of the war opened up relations between regions more easily, so it was sensible that the Prime Minister would make an appearance there. He was staying in a local inn, a show of goodwill and faith in the quality of the town, a shrewd move, or so Ediz Caillet thought. As an enterprising young merchant recently emigrated from what was formerly the Leicester alliance, it was in her best interest to maintain a keen eye on the goings on of the nearby nobility. 

So imagine her surprise to see an imposing figure who met all descriptions of Hubert von Vestra swing open the inn doors, looking windswept and haggard. He was famous for being calculating and capable, but not all that sociable, so to see him here was nothing short of shocking. Was there something wrong with von Aegir? Was the internal diplomacy of the castle at risk? And more importantly, _ was her business _?

When he stomped over to her, she felt her blood chill, his icy gaze as intimidating as everyone said, “Did a young messenger enter this building already? With a leather satchel, blue hair?”

“Ah, yes. He headed to the second floor, where the prime minister was staying. Said something about having some important letters for him from, uh, _ you _.”

“I see. My gratitude.”

He brushed past her, and her fear faded into, oddly enough, amusement. That was most definitely a man on a mission, but that mission was not one of national crisis, but a personal one. That was a man who was...

* * *

Arne Westby and Jan Runde had been partners ever since their earliest days of training, and no superior had ever thought to seperate them. Together, they produced results unmatched by any of their peers, and as such were given the prestigious position of accompanying the Prime Minister on his journey. He had gained many accolades in the war, therefore he likely did not need their watch, but he seemed grateful for their presence all the same. It made their work feel appreciated unlike any noble they had met before, so they didn’t mind being less than ancillary in the slightest. So when a man approached his door, unannounced and with seemingly little intent to do so, they gripped their lances tighter. 

“Halt!”

He stopped, and so did their beating hearts.

Could it possibly be...

“Oh!” Arne straightened his back and lowered his weapon, confusing his companion, “I’m so sorry sir!”

“Who is this?” Jan whispered harshly, clearly irritated.

“Hubert von Vestra, you dolt! One of only two people in a higher position than the man we’re guarding right now!”

Well, he understood the situation now, and stood to attention as well, “Goddess, my apologies.”

“None needed. Now just let me through, _ please_,” his voice was especially weary on that last note, unsettling them, contrasting his stern face with a pleading tone. They let him walk through the door without any resistance, sharing a look.

_ Did you see him fidgeting with that thing in pocket? _

_ Yeah, it looked like a small box. _

_ It couldn’t be- _

_ No- _

They shook their heads. No way, not a chance.•

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought! I was considering writing a follow up from Hubert's POV, but was told by a few peeps that it's good as was. I still might if the mood strikes me, but for now, I hope you enjoyed Hubie's antics lmao.
> 
> (P.S here are the name generators I used for the [characters](https://www.mithrilandmages.com/utilities/MedievalNames.php) and [place (plus two characters)](https://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/roman_town_names.php) names)


End file.
